Fen and Jack, taking the world by force
by TiredGreenEyes
Summary: Fenrir Greyback: feared and well known. Who was he? How did he meet the Lupins? Another story of how Remus was bitten.
1. Prologue

HELLO!

Those of you who have read this before (not too many reviews, though a lot of hits) will hopefully find this much changed for the better. I took away the little I had written and have changed it drastically- becuase I was not happy with it whatsoever. So I'm hoping to get a little satisfaction this time.

As always, this entire fic from start to finish is a creation of my imagintion, based off of the characters and time gaps of JK Rowling.

It is a fic about how Remus was bitten, and the whys and therefores- mostly talking about Fenrir Greyback and Remus's father- so if you don't dare about either one of these men you'll probably want to read something else.

John Remus's Father

* * *

Chapter 1

He woke up and immediately wished he hadn't.

John Lupin laid in bed, stretched on his side. He did not even have to turn to his other side to read the illuminated numbers on the digital clock to know that it said 6:14 AM. He often wondered why fourteen and not fifteen, but the person who had set the clock usually couldn't explain her reasoning. He had learned to love her spontaneity.

But today her side of the bed was empty.

And that was why he couldn't get up.

He reached over his shoulder to tap the snooze button and accidentally knocked the clock off the table. The trills of the alarm became louder, and he was forced to jump from the bed onto the floor, search blindly for a moment in the dark, and finally rip the batteries from the machine to shut it up. He reached up and set the machine on the table, breathing a bit more heavily than necessary. Rising to his feet, he quickly walked to the window and raised the blind.

Light spilled in, paining him until he had blinked a few times. Despite the proof that it was, indeed morning, John still stood sleepily at the window. Rubbing his five o'clock shadow, he turned around again.

The bed. This time he could see it plainly, only a few feet away. For the first time since he could remember, the blankets bore no evidence that his wife had been there. It was the first morning since he'd gotten married where he'd woken up to find that no one had kicked him, or stolen his covers, or fallen asleep on his arm (making it go completely numb) during the night.

The only imprint on the mattress was his own.

He looked at it. A deep moan escaped his lips before he'd even realized he was making a sound.

"Olivia!" he moaned. Then, he lowered himself against the wall and wept.

* * *

John didn't know how he could stand to be there in the cemetery, watching someone who had not even known his wife say what a marvelous person she was. Luckily he seemed to be in some sort of blessed daze- He barely remembered dressing or coming downstairs that morning. 

His son was already awake and was standing at the stove, flipping eggs with one hand and pressing the phone to his ear on the other. Already there was toast and tea on the table, along with a few large dishes of casserole that the neighbors had sent over yesterday. Knowing he wouldn't be able to eat, John had slid into his chair, and merely listened to Remus's half of the conversation.

"No, I don't think so. My Grandfather sent an owl yesterday, he said that he'd be over around eleven." Remus flipped another egg. John reached for a cup of tea, taking in his hands for warmth. He sipped it mechanically, and looked up at his son's face.

The boy looked tired. Well of course he looked tired- he the moon would be tomorrow. That was why they had to have the funeral so quickly- so that their son could pay his last respects before his illness. His three friends had practically taken residence since Monday. John wondered if perhaps they were still here- and hence why Remus was cooking.

Remus appeared to be listening hard to something the person on the other end- probably his aunt- was saying. He sighed again.

"Yes, I'll see you then. No- no please don't bring any food…" Remus listened again. His face might have been expressionless, had his eyes not given him away. He took a deep breath. "Yes. Thank you. Alright. Bye."

He set down the phone on the countertop and picked up a plate with the free hand. Gracefully he flipped three eggs from the pan onto the dish and turned off the stove. He placed the platter on the table and sat down across from John.

John looked at the eggs.

"I'm not hungry," he said.

Remus sighed. "Neither am I. I just felt like I needed to do something."

John reached his hand across the table. He gently placed it overtop his son's. No words were needed. They stayed that way for a moment.

The doorbell rang.

John looked at the clock. Eleven on the dot.

He stood up. "Well… it's time."

Remus's eyes didn't meet his. They looked determinedly out the window as he swallowed.

John wished he could be strong for him. He wished he could tell him that everything was going to be alright- but he wasn't too sure of it himself. And even if he did say those words- they would still be empty.

Remus was sixteen; but he was already old enough to realize that life didn't always play fair.

* * *

That was how the morning had gone. _Slowly_. It was completely agonizing. 

Added to this was the element of John's father- who's personality was so icy that any warmth that might have been present because of fond memories or love disappeared like a wisp of smoke. Remus had disappeared almost immediately after his arrival- not that John could blame him. He half wished he could do the same. Still, he put up with his father's harsh and blunt personality, breathing a sigh of relief when Remus left his friend's side to shuffled forward as the final spells were put into place over the gravesite.

Although... perhaps it would have been better if Remus hadn't come- for besides Olivia O'Brian, there was no one in the world Romulus Lupin despised half as much as her half-breed son.

"I warned you John," he murmured as the Speaker performed various enchantments and spells that carved the decease's name into the granite stone. "I warned you about marrying a muggle, didn't I? And yet you didn't listen and look where it got you-"

"My mother," Remus's lips barely moved. "Died in an _accident_. It was hardly a result of poor decision making."

Until this point in time, John had felt he was holding up rather well- still his resistance began to cave. The idea of his wife being buried in a box beneath the earth- while his family stood above and argued over her corpse…

"Father…" he whispered. "Remus… _please_…"

"It's true as you well know John," hissed Romulus. "And the boy is as bad as you are, choosing to stand with his friends instead of his family during the funeral service-"

"I was standing with my aunt. My mother's sister," Remus explained quietly. His shoulders were quite tense now, as though it was taking his entire resolve to not explode.

"This is not the moment to discuss such things," John begged.

"…I can only hope that he chooses his friends more wisely than you did…"

"What the hell are you taking about?" Remus finally burst out, not even bothering to keep his voice down. "What does any of this have to do with my mother?!"

"Remus-" John began.

But there was no stopping Romulus Lupin- he had waiting to deliver this speech for years, and now he let loose.

"This is where it has left you!" The older man turned to John, fury etched deeply in each line of his ancient face. The lines were not from smiles- but father from years of brow furrowing and the endless disapproval of every subject. It was strange to see such a man enraged- standing in his dress robes, with spit flying from his mouth. Strange because apart from their Christmas and Birthday Card greetings, he was not associated with their little family at all- and had not been since the day Remus had encountered a werewolf.

Remus didn't know about that yet. But he was about to, because it (unfortunately) happened to be part of the speech that spewed from Romulus' mouth.

"I warned you about that man, didn't I?" Romulus screamed. "I told you- I _forbid_ you from him and yet you purposely disobeyed me! Look where it's gotten you! He destroyed everything! It was his fault- he was the one who lead you to this woman! Who is responsible for the condition of your child-"

John felt as though the entire world was shifting beneath his feet, bringing up everything he thought had been buried- everything that had been carefully forgotten. He opened his mouth to quiet his father, but before he could Remus jumped in.

"What are you talking about?!" he asked, sounding half enraged and half wary. "_Who_ are you talking about?!"

Without the slightest hesitation, Romulus looked deeply into his grandson's eyes and spat in disgust, "You Fool! Who do you think I'm talking about? Fenrir Greyback of course!"

* * *

He had had worse days. Still, this one had ranked high enough to be counted as the third on his list. 

John was at home, with his father a comfortable fifty miles away. He leaned back against the wall of his bedroom, shutting his eyes. But each time he did, the scene only replayed itself in his mind. The graveyard- the fight- the look of intense betrayal in his son's eyes…

_"You're lying!" Remus had choked out. "Lying…" and then he had turned to his father. "Tell him the truth!" He commanded._

And John had said nothing. He had said nothing at all. As realization filled the boy's features he had turned from him. He had turned and simply begun to walk away. Once out of the clearing, he'd started to run.

Everyone watched. After a moment, James, Sirius and Peter had left- undoubtedly to go after him.

_'Thank heaven there weren't many people there,'_ John thought. Even more lucky that the majority of people were either familiar with the Lupin family's secret or muggles and therefore completely oblivious to it.

It was well past midnight. Still, John waited for the sound of the front door opening. He wouldn't be surprised if it didn't open tonight- after all, James' parents were extremely fond of Remus- as they were all of James' friends. John was sure that they would probably allow him to stay the night without even the thought of denying the request.

Still, John had to be sure- even though he was secretly terrified as to what course of action might take course the moment Remus walked through those doors. He really should have told him about it… it wasn't right that he had learned about it at his mother's burial.

_'Olivia… what would you do?'_ he wondered, as he sit on his bedroom floor, looking again at her empty place on the mattress. _'How would you fix this…?'_

And almost immediately the answer came.

_'At the very least, I'd owe him an explanation… but where would I start?'_

He sighed. The answer to that was obvious too.

At the beginning.

_'Well you see Remus, I met this kid named Fenrir in my second year of Hogwarts… and my life's been crazy ever since…'_

* * *

_I know it's very very intense for a first chapter... but it will all be explained, hopefully. Do you like it better? Think it's worse?_

_Thanks,_

_Fe_


	2. Leaving home

I haven't given up. Have you?

Reviews appreciated. As always, the disclaimer applies to all chapters.

* * *

John Romulus Lupin was going to die on the platform nine and three quarters. He was going to flat out die of exhilaration, impatience and excitement. He was going to flat out die on the floor and the only person in the whole of the train station who would not notice would be his own father who was busy telling him everything he did not want to know.

"You must make absolutely sure to raise your Herbology grade… no son of mine will get low marks in such a disgracefully easy subject… and for heavens sakes, try not to be so antisocial!" Romulus muttered as he flicked his wand to send John's luggage aboard the baggage car. He glared sternly at the two parents who were struggling to lift their tiny daughter's huge suitcase into the baggage car. The parents were too astonished by the sight of John's things flying over their heads to catch the scathing look.

"Muggles," Mr. Lupin murmured. He turned to his son. "Well I don't have all day; there is work to be done. Have a good year John. I expect you to write home a minimum of twice a month."

"Yes Father," John said softly, trying to hide the relief in his tone. The speech was over. Romulus nodded to him and swept off of the platform, disappearing into the crowd of people without so much as a second glance over his shoulder. John shouldered his bag and stepped onto the train.

Most of the compartments were empty, but those that were full made up for it with sound. Loud chatter and laughter filled the air- along with well wishes, 'I love yous' and 'goodbyes.' After an entire summer of nothing but his father and their few servants, John was both astonished and fulfilled at the sounds and the smells of the compartment. Being a first year was terrifying, but a second year knows what is going on. He climbed into the empty compartment, thinking that perhaps some fellow Gryffindors would like to share it, and chose the seat by the window.

_Gryffindor._ It still sounded wonderful- just the name in itself was regal; strong. Of course, it had infuriated his father. His father had been a Ravenclaw, and he had already predetermined that his son was going to graduate with the highest grades in his year. After his first year at school his father had drug his home from the platform, muttering about '_proving the hat wrong_.' The entire three months had been spent in study, with a constant supply of texts being shoved under his nose at every spare moment and a quizzing at every meal. It had been exhausting, and unbearable- to the point where he wanted to go to school only for a true vacation.

So ironically enough, just when he was beginning to relax and breathe again the door opened with a _whoosh_- and four boys, well dressed and laughing, entered. They hadn't even noticed him until they went to sit down.

"Hey Lupin, what you doing!? This is Slytherin's compartment!" Farrel Crook, already dressed in his robes with his green and silver tie towered above him.

"Yeah, we always use this one!" Erik Warthock, a second year with thick eyebrows that always made him appear as though he were scowling (and in this case it had double the effect because he really _was_ scowling), sneered.

John looked up at them warily. They were all boys from his own year- which meant that there was no way that they 'always' used this compartment. Unless 'always' signified 'twice.'

John felt his heart drop somewhere around his toes. He had always been slightly short for his age. On his last visit to the family Healer, the man had guaranteed that John would have a growth spurt within a few months. But here they were three years later, and he was still a good six inches shorter than the four boys glaring down on him; looking like snakes about to strike.

'_I've only been on the train two minutes and already I'm in trouble…' _He thought sadly. He was used to this sort of thing. Being a loner meant being unprotected. Being unprotected meant that those who were not unprotected liked to gang up on you. Especially those who had nothing better to do on their first day of school than argue over stupid things like the ownership of one out of the two hundred compartments on this train.

John straightened up and forced himself to look them in the eye.

'_You're a Gryffindor!'_ He thought desperately. _'Courage! Bravery! Are you really such a coward?'_

The answer was obvious and pathetic. Slowly and shakily he reached for the bag at his feet. Like a mantra, the words rang continuously in his head. _'Coward! Coward! Coward!' _

Then, for a third time, the compartment door swung open. John's hopes rose and then fell again.

Another Slytherin. Fenrir Steinback entered the compartment with a look of determination on his face. Unlike the other Slytherin boys, he was dressed in muggle attire- a blue-grey turtleneck and jeans. A peculiar smell was radiating off of him- almost like fish.

Well that was just_ Perfect_! All John needed was five people against him instead of four. The grins of his bullies grew more menacing.

'_Just get out quickly,'_ he told himself. He stood up, swinging his bag over his shoulder. He moved towards the door, hoping that the other boy would step aside.

He did not.

Erik liked the situation very much. With a wild look in his eyes, he clapped his friend's shoulder. "Steinback! I hoped you join us! We've got a guest here… he seems to have wandered away from the rest of the herd…"

A few boys guffled stupidly at that. Steinback raised an eyebrow at them. He was not only taller than the other boys- but broader. Built tough like a Beater; his shoulders nearly filled the doorway and one of his thick hands could have easily fit around John's measly little neck.

The very thought made John sick. He tried again to get by Steinback, but he didn't even seem to notice his efforts. He looked at his classmates, with neither a smile nor a frown on his face. Then Steinback cleared his throat.

"I think it's you who've 'wandered.' Your compartment is the next one over- not this one."

For a moment, everyone stared at him in silence. John felt a sense of awe. It was almost like a shock really. Erik's face pinched up and his friends looked as though they'd just swallowed a bottle of skelegrow. They all looked at Steinback, seizing him up to see if he was truly serious. The air was tense. Finally, after Erik managed a very fake smile at Steinback and turned to his group.

"Well in that case, we'll leave the doxy turd to himself, shall we?" He stepped to the door, and this time Steinback stepped aside, allowing him to pass. But as he did he purposely shoved John, knocking him into the wall.

"Later Lupin," he hissed.

And like good henchmen, the other three followed, purposely knocking him with strength and threats. Steinback slid the door shut behind them. He looked silently through the window, watching them leave with a strange expression on his face, almost like anger.

Then he slowly looked at John. His eyes were dark brown- so dark they appeared black and made his pupils look as though they took up more of his face than they truly did. They were piercing, even more frightening than Erik's strange eyebrow scowls. John tried not to look at them.

'Maybe he kicked everyone out so he could beat me up himself. Maybe he wanted all the glory himself…'

Fenrir took a step towards him. He winced.

Steinback walked straight past him to the window. He opened the latch and glanced out, looking at the platform and all the families waving goodbye. Then he stuck his head back in.

"'Train's about to leave. You better sit down."

Hesitantly, feeling as though any moment this giant was going to jump at him and taunt him, he sat down in the seat by the window again. Fenrir sat across from him, and immediately put his feet up across the long seat to get comfortable. He pulled what looked to be a comic book from his pocket and immediately began to read, ignoring John entirely.

Well! This wasn't exactly the nice normal trip he had in mind to start his year! And it certainly wasn't the company he intended to start it with. Awkwardly he reached in his bag and pulled out the only book he had- "_Second Year Transfiguration for the Enthusiast."_

Slightly miserable, but no less grateful that he was not (momentarily) achy, bruised or bleeding, he began to read.

Silently they sat across from each other, saying nothing at all, barely moving the entire trip to Hogwarts. When the train stopped Steinback stood up and silently left the room without a single glance in his direction.

_That was the first time I ever noticed the boy who would one day be known and feared as Fenrir Greyback. We had had classes together of course, but I had stuck close to my own house-to my own group of friends… if you could indeed call them that. I was a loner not by nature, but because that was what my father had raised me to be. I had spent my entire childhood with my father, which meant I had no real affection at all. _

_Later I would learn that even though I had not noticed him, he had certainly noticed me. Why else would he have rescued me that day? But that came later… much much later…_

* * *

_A lot of people hit on this story and some even have it as a favorite. How about some reviews? The more feedback the more I write, and the faster. Thanks._


End file.
